


Treasure of the Deep

by connorssock



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Horror, Canon Typical Violence, Double Penetration, Happy Ending, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, M/M, Mates, Mating Bites, Mermaid Sex, Mermaid Sixty, Oviposition, Pool Sex, Transformation, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-08-14 11:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock
Summary: The job paid too well to refuse. Head of security on a research vessel out at deep sea. The rules were simple, ask no questions, turn a blind eye to anything out of the ordinary. Allen thought he could do that no problem, even when what was pulled from the depths of the ocean looked half human, behaved like it was sentient and was now destined for a brief life as a scientific experiment, having been caught. If only he had been more sensible and resisted getting involved right from the start. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and heart ache.





	1. The Haul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amnael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amnael/gifts).

> Tags are for later chapters! We're not diving in with kink straight off, no matter how much I want to XD
> 
> Tags may be added to as we go along. And watch me try to keep to the plotted number of chapters.

The perk of being head of security on a deep sea research vessel was that Allen got to know more than the average grunt. What wasn’t as much of a perk was getting woken in the middle of the night because the idiot boffins have allegedly caught something in their nets but couldn’t get it overboard because it was putting up a fight. Given the nature of their research, it fell to Allen to try and help subdue their catch because none of the lower ranking staff could even set eyes on their haul.

Grumbling to himself, Allen shrugged into the diving gear and grabbed one of the sedative harpoons. It was barely three in the morning, pitch black save for the few red lights through the corridors and on deck. At the back of the vessel, people were running around and chattering excitedly. One of the deeper nets had snagged, it hadn’t stopped thrashing since but each time they tried to haul it overboard, it was almost like the creature entangled was bracing against the bottom of the boat and resisting in a final display of defiance.

“Get under there and subdue it. But kill it and you’re going overboard with a pair of concrete shoes,” Perkins snapped. He was head of research and not exactly Allen’s favourite person. Still, the money had been too good to refuse when the job had come up. Setting the breathing apparatus over his mouth and nose, he stood at the edge of the boat and rolled into the sea.

The water around him was cool but he shrugged it off, having done it too often to care much. At first, everything was pitch black but as his eyes adjusted, he saw a faint glow of red in the water, thrashing wildly in the net. It twisted out of sight, an inky blackness blocking it that was darker than the rest of the water. A shadowy shape was thrashing around in the reinforced net. As Allen approached, it froze and turned, a soft red glow emanating from its chest and in lines across its torso, arms and face. The top half was humanoid but when Allen turned his light on to get a better look and for aiming the tranquilliser. Under the light, the creature hissed and twisted from the beam, black eyes scrunching into a squint before they disappeared with the flick of a tail.

Above them, the cogs were being cranked again, dragging the net up towards the boat. Lazily kicking to stay in place, Allen watched as clawed, black hands shot up to brace against the edge of the hull and the creature’s tail flicked as much as the net allowed it to move. Its mouth was open in a low growl, sharp teeth bared. The red pulsed along its limbs, brightening and dimming in what could have been a call for help or a reflection of focus on expending energy on resisting the machinery from dragging it out.

Unfortunately for the creature, the position left it wide open to Allen’s aim and he fired at it without remorse. The first dart bounced off the tails and he cursed to himself. Aiming more carefully, the next one slammed into the shoulder of the creature. Its arm buckled in surprise and it snarled, a low growl like those of a whale song resonated through Allen, shook his whole body. A warning then, the threat that the creature would defend itself. Bracing himself, Allen lined up the next shot. The first one should have already subdued it but there seemed to be no effect. The second dart struck the creature in the side and it twirled to screech at him. It hurt, the sound like a thousand shards of glass stabbing through his brain. Above them, the cogs turned against and Allen fired once more blindly, struck the creature in the chest, near the light. It seemed to gasp, swiped slowly at its chest, staring down at where the dart protruded. Black eyes blinked slowly, widened in surprise as the net dragged it up even as it tried to fight it with futile flicks of its tail, the sedatives finally winning out. It gave one final shriek that tickled more than it hurt as it was dragged out of the water.

Up on deck it was pandemonium. The creature was still weakly writhing out of water, trying to tear at the reinforced net with its claws and lashing out at anyone approaching. Its screeches were worse than nails on a chalkboard mixed with polystyrene. However, as Allen stripped out of his gear, he noted that they were growing weaker, more desperate. The shrieks became pained and people yelled, a spotlight was pointed on the net and the sound of batons thudding into flesh, beating the creature into submission filtered through.

“Don’t kill it you fucking plebs! We need it alive!” Perkins yelled.

By the time Allen approached, the creature was lying still, chest heaving with laboured breaths, its skin mottled with blackened ichor seeping from cuts. The red lines along its body dim in the light.

“Cut it loose and prepare from transport down into the labs,” Perkins barked. “You!” he pointed at Allen. “Supervise. Make sure the fuckwits don’t kill it and it doesn’t lash out.”

Allen’s nod went unseen as Perkins turned on the spot and marched off, leaving the commoners to do the hard work he didn’t deign to sink to.

Peeling the netting away, the creature was only weakly swatting at people but its claws were easy to dodge, its fins tied or taped down, the sharp tipped ridges held down. Trussed up, it was rolled onto a tarpaulin and a head harness kept its head and jaw locked into place. A dark band over the bridge of its nose, wrapped under its chin and several loops attached to a rigid rod at the back went around its neck. It still didn’t stop its tail giving a few powerful kicks and knocking one of the workers to the ground, causing the whole thing to crash into the ground. Before it was picked up again, someone decided to zap it with a cattle prod until the creature was writhing with a pained shriek. After that, it lay panting on the tarpaulin and gave a pained whine when it was jostled as they picked it up once more. The last Allen saw of it, it was being pulled into the belly of the ship, destined for a fate as a science experiment.


	2. The Break

Sleep didn’t come easy. It had nothing to do with the clanging echoes form within the ship. Now that they had their catch, the scientists had all put become hermits deep in the cargo hold. Sometimes Allen was convinced he could hear the shrieks of the creature. Who knew what the brainboxes were doing to it, it wasn’t any of his business. And yet, images of the desperation it showed against being pulled from the sea, the anger and frustration on its face all haunted Allen. In the end, it didn’t matter how much he wanted to forget because he was being dragged into the bowels of the ship, his quarters being moved closer to the abomination.

“It needs to be guarded when not being used. The creature has shown a surprising affinity for escape. Your job, from now on, is to guard it when it is not sedated,” Perkins was telling Allen as they approached the hold which had been converted to house a tank for the creature along with examination equipment. A pair of noise cancelling headphones were tossed at him. “You’ll need these too.”

Putting them on, Allen nodded. It wasn’t his place to question, not with the money they were paying him. Rather than his diving and wet uniform, Allen is in his dry one. Black t-shirt with a stab proof black vest over it. Straps held it in place, also kept a handgun to his thigh, a rifle in his hands and a few other odds and sods attached to his person. Some might call it overkill but he would rather be prepared beyond need than not enough.

In the hold, there was a shallow tank, barely enough room for the creature to turn around in. It twisted angrily, the harness-like muzzle across its face and around its neck. Its hands were shackled to a thick metal band around its wrist so it couldn’t reach and pull the restraints off. There were dark gouges on its waist where it had evidently tried to claw the band off without much success.

“You don’t need to look at it. Just make sure if doesn’t go anywhere or cause any havoc. It has an aversion to the red laser pens so if it looks like it’s trying to break out, just point one at it. The fucker has already cracked two panels on its container.”

Now Allen was no expert, but if he were stuck in such a small tub as a creature used to the expanses of the ocean, he would be pretty miffed too. However, as Perkins had said, such thoughts were not part of his job so he didn’t dwell on them too much.

For most part of the day, he sat on a chair and did nothing. The researchers had pulled the creature out of its container twice before lunch for observation. Each time, it shrieked at them, audible even through the headphones. It tried to smack anyone getting too close away with its tail which had caught a trolley and sent it flying. Observing it, Allen had a newfound appreciation for the power it seemingly housed.

His patience was wearing thin though. While he’d never been fond of such seemingly needlessly cruel scientific investigations, when the creature was forced down onto a gurney, metal bands held it still from forehead to tail tip despite its obvious struggles, Allen squirmed a little in his seat. Then the light was turned on above the creature’s head and a mouthpiece fitted to keep its jaw forced open. It screamed, inky tears trickled down its temple, the dim red lines on its skin flared darker while its eyes were squeezed shut. There was no doubt in Allen’s mind, the creature wasn’t just angry anymore, it was in agony. He watched the metal bindings dig into it, a few scales broke off its tail.

This wasn’t a scientific experiment anymore as Perkins peered into the creature’s mouth, trying to clamp down forceps on a sharp tooth for extraction and further study. This was a vivisection of a seemingly humanoid creature and Allen couldn’t stomach it. He stood from his seat and marched to the power box. On flick later the whole room dimmed and the red emergency lights came on. Everything was still and silent around them, even the creature.

“Time for a lunch break,” Allen announced. He wasn’t going to wade into the argument of what his place was, what could and couldn’t be done to the creature. That was a surefire way to get kicked out, maybe not even be paid. But he could most certainly try and steer things. Even if he only brought the creature a little more time from the inevitable. Part of him wondered if it would be kinder to just put a few bullets in it and be done with the misery. The scientists would still have a specimen to work with bt the creature wouldn’t have to suffer.

A few mutters and grumbles went up but nobody seemed inclined to disagree with Allen so lunch was called. When the bright lamp was moved from the creature’s face, Allen flipped the switch again and people blinked at the sudden change of lights.

“The creature remains on the gurney. Don’t touch it.” That was Perkins’ parting shot before storming out of the room. Slowly, everyone else followed until it was just Allen and the creature left. It seemed to have calmed even as the mouthpiece was left in. In the silence, Allen carefully pulled the headphones off, watching the creature for any change. When it didn’t scream, he offered it a smile.

“What are we going to call you?” he mused. With nobody else around, he had a chance to poke around a little, found the clipboard with the designation of the specimen. “313 248 317-60? Bit of a mouthful. How about we call you Sixty?”

He looked over the brief summary of what the boffins had managed to discern about the creature. Likely male, a mature specimen with discernible social aptitude. A couple of x-rays were pinned to the file, showed evidence of old trauma, broken bones and possible harpoon damage to the skull. There were a few more notes on the reproductive system being similar to that of snakes, a scan showed two sheathed hemipenes. A final note caught Allen’s eye.

_ The creature shows above expected intellect and social understanding, suggesting sentience. In the interest of detachment, it is advised to leave such areas unexplored. Specimens obtained at a later date may be investigated for psychological and social structure but our current research is focused on biology. Any attachment to the specimen may prove detrimental to our mission. _

Whistling, Allen looked over Sixty again. He was watching Allen with slitted black eyes, teeth bared against his will.

“If I take the thing out of your mouth, will you bite me?”

There was no response but Allen approached, hands clearly visible. If the creature was as intelligent as suspected, then it wouldn’t attack him. Especially not when he was the one to have turned the lights off. Gently, Allen reached for the straps of the mouthpiece and ignored the flinch from the creature when his skin brushed against his much cooler cheek. It felt dry to touch, the gills on the sides of his neck worked extra hard with each inhale. Easing the piece out, there was the snap of teeth but not at Allen’s hand, it seemed Sixty was trying to work his ja back into something more comfortable.

“Isn’t that better?” Allen smiled down at him. Alien, black eyes stared up at him and a soft chirrup echoed in the empty room. “I wish I knew what that means buddy, but I’ll assume it was a thank you. And you’re welcome.”

By the time the lunch hour had finished, Allen was back in his chair but there were puddles of water around Sixty. Nobody looked close enough to realise how Allen’s trousers were wet to the knee and one of the food buckets was cleaner, residue of water still in it. While the afternoon was no easier to watch, Sixty screeched as the scientists did whatever it was they wanted to, at least he had a moment of reprieve and a little bit of care to make him a sliver more comfortable.


	3. The Proposal

The days were monotonous to an extent. Allen sat in the corner and watched as Sixty was brought out and tested to his limits each day. Not even the best quality noise cancelling headphones were enough some days to block out the cries. Perhaps the worst were the ones where Sixty lay there, helpless and chest heaving, eyes leaking their inky tears. When all fight as gone from him and the scientists prodding him couldn’t even get more than a warbling moan, not even a twitch of tail. They drew blood from him, deliberately and by accident too. Some days the floor was wet with the thick, syrupy mess that surged through Sixty’s veins. In most lights it was black but Allen had seen vials of it held up to almost blinding light by Sixty’s head. His blood as the darkest of blues in such conditions.

Each lunchtime, Allen locked the door behind the last of the scientists and cleaning crew. He was left alone to guard Sixty. For those 45 minutes, he tended to Sixty with the best of his very limited knowledge. Listening to the boffins, he’d picked a lot up, noted Sixty’s preferred fish to eat. He also knew that they were trying to keep Sixty subdued through starvation, keep him weak and pliant as much as possible. It made something bubble through Allen in anger. So when he was on break, when the screeches got too much for his heart, he took himself off and hunted down a small pouchful of the fish. If it was before lunch, he took their time together to help Sixty sit up and eat a little if he wasn’t strapped down. Some days, they got lucky and Sixty had been left in his holding tank. He’d taken to curling up in one end as small as he could. It is had been possible, Allen would have said his black was looking pasty, or at least not as rich as he’d looked the night of capture.

Other times, Allen could only get fish in the afternoons. Those days, he stashed them in his room before returning to his post. When the working day was over, he ushered everyone out and made a show of returning to his room. Not half an hour later, once the corridors were empty and people descended on the canteen, he returned to the labs. He eased Sixty’s tank lid open those days and on especially bad ones, held the fish to his lips to save him the disgrace of trying to snatch it out of the water without hands.

Some nights, Allen even stayed in the lab, slept fitfully in the dark, under the soft red glow of Sixty in his tank. Sometimes, he was convinced that the light emanating from his chest and arms was yellow as Sixty stared out of the viewing port at him. But those, Allen put down to fatigue and a vivid imagination.

They settled into a routine of sorts over the week. Sixty seemed to have decided that Allen was an ally, someone he could either trust or perhaps try to manipulate into his bidding. Not like it would have been that hard, the more Allen saw, the more he was convinced that Sixty’s suffering was needless, even in the name of science. It was no justification to say that lack of proof of sentience made their actions excusable. There was an active attempt the thwart the evidence that Sixty was a thinking, intelligent being.

Any attempt Allen made to engage Perkins in such a conversation was shut down quickly and without even an attempt at subtlety.

“Your place is to guard the creature. Not to question our methods. If you wanted to do that, you’d have got a PhD rather than a rap sheet for bar brawling,” Perkins had hissed at him.

That had hurt and Allen took a step back as though slapped. In the tank, Sixty yowled. It was true, Allen did have history and a record. But that hadn’t stopped him from work. He had focused all his excess energy into martial arts, gun training and getting certified as not just a security guard but a bodyguard and also management courses to run his own company. Despite a rocky start, he was not some dumb goon.

Seething from that slapdown, Allen was in a foul mood that evening. He stomped around the lab, trying to furtively sabotage the equipment to delay Sixty’s torture a little more. At least there were talks of getting him a bigger pool. Even the scientists had noticed how Sixty was, quite literally, fading away in the small tank. It was a shame that it was only the shedding of scales that had clued them in that if they wanted to keep their specimen alive they had to act and act quick.

So in the corner of the lab, construction was underway to create a pool. It wasn’t going to be terribly deep. Enough for Sixty to “stand up” in it so to speak. Barely over 2m in depth and 5m wide. Enough to restlessly pace if needed but not enough to hide in and there was even a shelf to sit on, low enough to be chest deep. Which boffin thought they’d dare get in the water with Sixty, Allen didn’t know. But he knew that if it came to it, he would make use of it and keep Sixty company in the water.

There were nights when it was terribly mind numbing to just sit in the lab. It wasn’t like Sixty was a great conversationalist. The days he was withdrawn and hiding away from the viewing panels were the worst. Allen didn’t feel he could leave him alone but he couldn’t exactly do a lot to keep himself entertained. Out of sheer boredom, he pulled a coin from his pocket and began trying to twirl it on his fingertips. Coin tricks and sleight of hand wasn’t something he excelled at, but with nothing better to do, he had time to practice.

A low hum caught his ear. It was similar to whale song but slower, more melodic and most definitely not coming from the sea below them. Looking up from his coin, Allen watched as Sixty had drifted a little, barely visible in the low light of the lab, a dark mass in the viewing window except for the lights on his body. Wide eyed, Allen watched as he hummed and the lights pulsed from red to blue. He was grooming his tail, pulling loose scales out and running fingers over the tatters of his tailfin where scientists had cut samples from, leaving it riddled with holes and rents. 

His song sounded sad, full of longing and desire. That was probably Allen anthropomorphising Sixty but there were no other words for the sounds. Never once before had Sixty sung, his lips peeled back in a soft crying wail. There was a rhythm and a refrain which Allen could pick up on. After a minute, when Sixty glanced up at him, Allen joined in as best he could.

The reaction was instantaneous. Sixty reeled back with a wide eyed look. Steadily, Allen kept humming, pulled his chair closer to the tank. The panic in Sixty seemed to settle and tentatively, he began singing again. It became a bit of a conversation though Allen had no idea what they were saying. All he knew was that at times Sixty would change tune, rhythm and he’d follow or try and make up a melody that complimented the one he’d just heard. Gradually, relaxing into it, he began to spin the coin on his finger again, chuckling each time he dropped it and Sixty’s eyes followed it with a hunter’s stare.

Thinking he understood the look finally, Allen grinned and flipped the coin before tossing it high in the air, letting it arch for a landing in the water. Sixty launched for it with a vigour he’d not seen before, snatching it out of the air and staring at Allen with a contorted face. The scream that emanated from his throat was an angry screech mixed with chittering. Definitely more than displeased. The coin was launched back at Allen and it bounced off his chest.

“Really?” Allen cocked an eyebrow most unimpressed. “Make all the noise you want, I’m not here for you to scream at and bring the sadists down on me. I’d only meant well. I’m out.”

He picked himself off the chair, ignored the way Sixty continued to scream at him, high pitched and defiant and made his way out of the lab.


	4. The Mate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all written and just waiting to be posted - a chapter every other day. And only one chapter over the estimate too!

The following morning, Allen was hauled into the lab for a bollocking. Apparently, he hadn’t locked the tank and Sixty was found curled up on the floor, almost dehydrated to the point of death. Whether he’d tried to escape or it was a fluke that he fell out, nobody seemed to know. All they were certain about was that Allen was to blame and this had set their experiments back by a day. Not like they were on a tight schedule but Allen didn’t dare to point that out. Suitably chastised, he was sent to his chair like a dog to its crate. Settling in for another long, arduous day of watching, Allen realised several things.

For one, Sixty was unusually quiet and pliant compared to even his worst days. His eyes kept drifting over to Allen, wide and sad even in the face of bright overhead lights. Where the harness allowed, his lips ticked downwards, a mimicry of human sadness. At lunch time, Allen didn’t approach him, didn’t get him fish, still annoyed that his good intentions had been thrown back in his face the previous night.

At least the delay in experimentation meant that Sixty’s pool was ready. That afternoon, he bore silently as one of his claws was pried from his hand and only whined when scales were lifted to find his slit and it was mercilessly swabbed and probed. By the time he was shackled for moving into his new pool, he was limp, lips chapped and parted in rasps, eyes slipping shut. All the time though, he didn’t look away from Allen. He was unceremoniously dumped into the pool where he sank to the bottom, blinking a few times before weakly flicking his tail and hiding under the shelf, out of sight.

Once everybody had filed out of the lab, Allen was left to turn lights off, lock everything up and make sure things were secured until the next day. He didn’t expect the low crooning tones to pick up again and echo through the room. Despite himself, it sounded like an apology and a peace offering. From the door he turned and saw Sixty, bathed in a yellow glow, pulling himself up on the shelf, eyes fixed on him. The song stopped and he watched in horror as Sixty hacked and coughed like a cat before a slimy dollop landed in his palm. Dipping it in the water briefly, he raised his hand again and something glinted in the light. The coin.

Realisation brought with it some shame and it all made sense. After Allen had stormed out the previous night, Sixty had hauled himself out of the tank, battling his bonds to get out, just so he could get to the coin Allen had tried to give him. Allen dreaded to think how much he’d struggled to pick it up and then get it in his mouth, hiding it from all the researchers. A small gift which had been his and only his. A treasure amongst the horror that his life had become.

Still warbling away, Sixty pushed the coin onto the ledge with a soft chattering sound then his song continued. Forgiveness came easy at the display and Allen glanced at the corridor behind him, making sure it was empty before closing it, staying in the lab.

“I was only trying to be nice yesterday. There was no need to yell at me. Especially when you decided that you liked the coin in the end and got me into trouble for everything,” he chided but approached the pool. Sixty left the coin on the side, pushed it a little closer to Allen before swimming away, keeping some distance between them.

Hesitant at first, Allen crouched next to the pool, just out of Sixty’s reach. He put a finger on the coin and pushed it back towards Sixty.

“This one can stay yours,” he said and reached into his pocket to pull another one out. “See? I’ve got another one.”

Sixty didn’t move from where he was peering out of the water, half his face hidden under it. It felt like he was waiting for something and Allen had to agree, he did owe Sixty an apology. Yesterday wasn’t exactly his fault, he couldn’t be blamed for being a smidge tetchy after everything he’s been put through. In his place, Allen would have been equally distrusting. Mind made up, Allen reached for the laces of his boots and worked them off slowly, making sure Sixty could see each move clearly. Socks stuffed in boots, Allen rolled the legs of his trousers up and eased them into the cool water. It was warmer than the sea but some would still call it cool. He thought it was quite nice on the whole.

Picking up the coin that Sixty had put to the side for him, he began trying to spin it again on one hand while the other held out the second coin. Slowly, Sixty drifted closer, eyes fixed on Allen. There were chains around his neck, if he reached too far, the harness dug into his face painfully. Still, he reached for the coin and stuffed it quickly in his mouth, hiding it once more. Laughing, Allen reached a hand out and ruffled his hair gently.

The touch had Sixty jerking back, eyes wide and lights flickering up yellow with the hint of blue. Lowering his arms, he drifted closer, the chains having a little more give. Letting him approach, Allen extended a hand and let him nudge against it.

“Well, would you look at that,” he mused. “Give me a second.”

Pulling out of the water, he went to the station which housed all the notes and after a few moments, he found the key needed. Returning to the pool, he held it up with a smile. It seemed that Sixty was trying to return the look but if was coming out all lopsided, too many teeth, head tipped to the side.

“If I give you this, can you get yourself out?”

While his words may not have been understood, the idea behind it was definitely picked up on. Slowly, Sixty raised his shackled arms. Stepping onto the shelf, Allen balanced precariously as he undid one of the manacles, showing Sixty how it’s done. He could have sworn Sixty rolled his eyes at his careful demonstration so he offered the key to Sixty instead. In less than 20 seconds, the metal clinked at the bottom of the pool and Sixty was doing a few speedy rounds, obviously relishing the freedom to move.

Settling back on the edge of the pool, Allen watched indulgently. When the singing started up, he easily joined in, laughing whenever he messed up or missed the change Sixty sprung on him. After a good half an hour, it seemed that Sixty had exhausted himself in the intricate loops he was swimming, twisting and twirling, once or twice even breaching the water in a black arch. Those times, Allen clapped and cheered, convinced that Sixty was enjoying having a captive audience. Sure enough, seemingly done, he swam up to Allen who reached out for him again. It only felt right that Sixty could have touch that wasn’t painful.

One moment, Allen’s hand was brushing against Sixty’s wet cheek, the next, clawed hands were on his arm and teeth were sinking into his wrist. Letting out a surprised shout, Allen was yanking his arm back, cursing at the way sharp teeth ripped through flesh and claws scraped over his arm, trying to keep him in place.

“Fucking hell, you bastard!” he yelled, staggering out of the pool and putting distance between him and Sixty. “Nothing more than a beast!”

Clamping a hand over the bite, he hissed. If he went to the medical bay with the injury, questions would be asked, he would be fired. Doing his best to snatch his boots from the edge of the pool without getting Sixty’s reach again, he gathered his things, ignoring Sixty’s sad, confused chitters. They turned louder, became screams as he left the lab and stumbled his way back to his room.

_ Mate? _

The word echoed in the corridor, a wispy voice. Allen snapped his head round to see who could be calling such idiotic words but there was nobody around.

_ Mate! _

There was a hint of panic in the voice now and Allen squeezed his eyes shut against it. The voice didn’t exist, it was just stress, maybe Sixty’s teeth injected him with some hallucinogen. That seemed like the most likely idea. He crashed through the door to his room and dropped his boots. The wet footprints from the lab to his quarters would dry, nobody would care much anyway. Ignoring the more desperate cries of “mate” in his head, Allen barely had the energy to slap a hasty gauze around the bite and fell into bed, suddenly exhausted. Worries of infection and properly cleaning the wound could wait until the next day. For now, he needed to sleep off whatever toxin Sixty had forced into him.


	5. The Acceptance

Waking up, Allen clutched at his head. It throbbed in time with his heart and his arm had decided to join the party too. Squinting against the bright light of his phone, he groaned. He was late for his shift. Sitting up, the whole world lurched and he stared at the bloody bandages around his arm. He was going to have to sort that out, wrap it again and hide it, hide all evidence of his involvement with Sixty. Thinking of him, he groaned out loud, he’d left the key with Sixty, he was going to be in so much shit again. Gritting his teeth, he peeled himself out of the previous day’s uniform and put on a fresh set. Sleeping in work clothes was an utterly dumb idea but he couldn’t do much about it now, it had happened, he was going to grit his teeth and deal with it.

Bandaging his arm was a whole other matter. Peeling away the blood soaked ones, he hissed. The bite was dark, the edges a vicious red which bled into black tendrils. Fuck. He couldn’t just slap a bandage on it and pretend it was a burn. Pouring some disinfectant rub on it made him bite his lip raw but it had to be done. Once as cleaned as he could manage, he slapped a pad over it and wrapped it in gauze before switching out his t-shirt for a long sleeved top. As ready as he could be, he hurried towards the labs.

Slipping in through the door, he was surprised to note that a few people just looked at him and scoffed but nobody seemed to care much that he was late. On the table, Sixty was still, too still. A machine beeped and Allen realised he was just sedated.

“Nice of you to join us,” Perkins sneered from where he was standing, bent over Sixty’s torso and pulling at something. With a lurch, Allen realised it was his genitals.

“Apologies, won’t happen again.” That’s all he said.

“Yes, well, you wouldn’t happen to have the key to the specimen’s locks in your pockets, would you? The main set has gone missing.”

A sick sort of relief flooded through Allen. At least Sixty had the sense to put himself back in the bind over night. Who knew what he did with the key though. Shrugging, Allen shook his head, “Falls outside my job description, I locked up last night, didn’t touch it.”

He settled back on his chair, weary and tired already. It felt as though the whole room was suffocating him, pulling him under with a cloying warmth. Slowly, it became a struggle to sit up, so Allen slouched down in his chair, it wasn’t like anyone cared what he got up to, he wasn’t needed. Half awake, he watched as whatever the researchers were doing was finished up, speculums and forceps were removed from Sixty and he was slithered back into the pool.

Eyes slipping shut, Allen jerked awake as dreams of the sea and soothing, heavy depths closed over him. He wasn’t dreaming, he wasn’t asleep but he couldn’t pull his mind from the sensation of too hot water rolling over him. Even worse, his groin ached as though he had strained it even though he knew he hadn’t.

_ Mate? _

That voice came again. In the pool, Sixty was coming back to himself. Allen jerked upright in his chair and tried to blink through the haze, images of seafoam still clouding his vision.

“Perhaps lay off the bottle a little if you’re working the next day,” Perkins shot him a knowing look. It was easier to nod and brush him off than argue.

_ Mate? _

The voice was more urgent now and Allen had enough.

_ Why must hallucinations torture me so? _

_ My mate. Not illusion. We sing, we gift, I dance, bonding bite. We mates. _

The first thing that went through Allen’s mind was “oh hell no” as he processed what he’d just heard. There was no way Sixty was in his head. That the interactions they’d shared and he intended as friendly had been some mating ritual. Then again, there was no way that something like mermaids existed either until a week and a bit ago.

His head was killing him and Allen sighed when lunchtime finally rolled round and everyone left the lab. Dragging himself up from his chair, he walked to the lights and switched them off. Everything, the whole room was cut off from power and the only glow was the soft blue of Sixty in his pool.

_ I help. _

Sixty’s voice in his head was gentle, coaxing and all too alluring. The promise of help was too good to resist and Allen swayed closer to the pool. Even if Sixty dragged him in and drowned him, that might be a preferable option to the pounding agony. The more he thought about it, the more he realised his whole body hurt. There were lines of burning pains across his wrists and waist, his legs felt like they had been flayed in places, a dull sort of ache kept his jaw clenched.

Sinking to his knees next to the pool, he didn’t even react to the fact that Sixty was free of his bindings yet again, the key carefully placed on the ledge next to Allen with a small, cheeky smile.

_ Water good. Even if hot. _

Sure enough, the water felt far too warm against Allen’s skin. He frowned at it because the previous night he was certain it was on the chillier side. Cold, claw tipped hands reached for him and Allen let himself topple into the water, too tired to care anymore. A sigh escaped him as water lapped at his aching body while Sixty enveloped him in arms. Deft hands pulled up his sleeves, growled in displeasure at the bandage on the bite.

_ Maybe hurt. Sorry. _

That was all the warning Allen got before his arm was being raised to black lips and teeth sank into his flesh. It wasn’t the deep, muscle ripping bite he had expected, the sharp, needle like points of Sixty’s teeth barely sank into him before pulling back and finding another part of his arm to bite. Over and over Sixty’s teeth sank into him, moving from one arm to the other with a feverish desperation.

_ They’re coming. _

Hands were pushing Allen out of the pool and there was the sound of metal clinking back into place. The burn around Allen’s wrists, waist and neck intensified. He blinked back into a more aware state and grabbed a bottle of water from the side, pouring it over himself and he returned to his chair. A few of the scientists gave him a curious look but he lifted the now empty bottle and offered a less than friendly smile.

It was Perkins who scoffed at him. “Get out of here. We don’t need you for the rest of the day. The specimen will stay in the pool while we figure out how to retrieve the eggs it carries.”

Trying to keep as much dignity as possible, Allen staggered out, intent on drinking at least two glasses of water when he got back to his room. In fact, rather than just a drink, a bath sounded even better. Something to soak his aches and pains away from sounded too good in that moment.

Peeling his sopping uniform off, Allen grimaced. He really shouldn’t have taken a dip with his guns but he was not in the mood to care. He didn’t even bother turning the lights on in his quarters. Running the bath, he grimaced at the temperature. Obviously the heating element was going haywire. In the end he filled the bath full of the coldest water he could get and settled in with a sigh. It was still a little on the warmer side but it definitely helped soothe his aches, Sixty had been right.

Before he knew it, Allen’s eyes were slipping shut, he was dragged back into the realms of darkness, flashes of blue, soft, low hums barely audible to human ears. They were dreams but not quite and Allen’s eyes shot open in the darkness of his bathroom with the name Silas on his lips.

The water was still warm around him even though it felt like hours had passed. Allen blinked up at the ceiling of the ship and frowned at why he was seeing it ripple. Almost like water that had been disturbed. It reminded him of Sixty, hovering just below the surface, blinking up at him. That thought had Allen sitting up and heaving in a huge breath. The sheer terror of having been underwater for who knew how long had his heart pounding in his chest. Even worse, he wasn’t choking or gasping for air.

_ Mate? _

_ For fuck’s sake, stop calling me that. Most people call me Allen. _

This was crazy, he was losing his mind. There was no way he was talking to a sodding mermaid telepathically and could now breathe underwater. That was the talk of the delusional. And yet. Out of the water, the air burned a little, his neck ached with a phantom weight in places so similar to where Sixty was bound.

_ What the fuck have you done to me? _

Perhaps it came out harsher than he would usually ask but this was so far out of his realm of experience, panic was on par for the course.

_ You’re my bonded.  _ A wave of regret washed over Allen.  _ I’m sorry I’m not what you hoped for. _

Which was so wildly out of left field that it jolted him out of his spiral. He took a few breaths to steady himself and slipped back under the water, intent on proving to himself that it was all just his mind playing tricks on him. Waiting for the inevitable burning of his lungs, Allen laid there and closed his eyes. A minute passed. He opened his eyes and took in the myriad of bites all up both arms. They burned like a thousand small fires, each puncture wound blackened and tendrils reached out from them. It looked like Allen was wearing delicate lace arm guards.

Bored of waiting for something that obviously wasn’t going to happen, Allen hauled himself out of the tub with a grunt. Still in the dark, he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself. At first glance, he just looked tired. The softly ridged lines on his neck were barely noticeable but running a finger over them, he could lift them to reveal a sliver of darkness. Gills. Allen realised with a stunned blink. He had gills. Thankfully his tactical vest would cover them for the most part and long sleeves would hide his arms. If is came to it, he could wear tactical gloves too, as long as his fingers didn’t start to blacken. Looking at himself, something else bugged him. He was seeing all that in the dark. Only a small amount of light was shining through the door and yet he could make out the finer details. Not in any colour but hues of greys and blacks.

Something else he noticed was that the aches and pains were gone. There was still the dull throb of the original bite but the burning agony of it was gone, along with the phantom shackles. Even the voice of Sixty in his head had disappeared, along with the emotions. If he concentrated hard enough, Allen could feel twinges of pain but nothing as bad as it had been.

_ Sixty? _

_ Yes? _ The reply was strained, distant and it made something itch in Allen. It didn’t sound right.

_ Why don’t I hurt suddenly? _ There wasn’t a reply. All Allen could feel was something like a tidal wave, blocking everything off.  _ Sixty? _ His tone was both a warning and a worried question. When no reply was forthcoming, Allen decided that the farce had gone on long enough. Haphazardly throwing clothes on, he knew he needed to brace himself for the light of the corridor but he still hissed at how the lights hurt the backs of his eyes. Until that too ebbed away somehow and he peered directly at an overhead light. It obviously wasn’t late enough for lights to be cut for the night, but everyone had already left for the evening. It suited him just fine.

Thankfully there was nobody between his quarters and the lab so he got there with relative ease and slipped into the darkened room with a sigh. He took a moment to look around and spotted Sixty in his pool, sunk to the bottom and eerily still.

“Sixty?” he called both out loud and mentally. There was a small twitch but otherwise Sixty stayed curled up in the corner. Walking closer, Allen could see how he trembled, head bowed, eyes squeezed shut, left arm hugged close to his chest despite the chains trying to pull him straight.

It wasn’t an image Allen ever really wanted to see again. Without much thought, he was stripping off the clothes which felt too restrictive anyway and slipping into the too warm pool. The water closed over his head like a balm and he kicked a few times to get to Sixty. Gripping his shoulder, Allen turned him onto his back and called for him again through their connection.

Slowly, Sixty’s eyes pried open and Allen reared back. Rather than their inky blackness, they were a milky white, unseeing and pale.

_ Ma- Allen? _

_ Right here. What happened? What did those monsters do to you? _

The reply of “nothing” was hard to believe. Allen spied the key just within reach, obviously, Sixty had tried to free himself for a few hours of respite but the pain had become too much. Carefully, he unlocked the chains, let the shackles fall away but still, Sixty was rigid on the floor of the pool.

_ Talk to me. I can’t help if you shut me out. _

It was almost like drip feeding, the way Sixty tried to unravel the mystery without giving too much away. At times, Allen wanted to shake him and yell to just be shown it all but he waited instead, as patiently as he could.

_ Bonded pairs can help take the brunt of pain. So I have taken yours in a way of apology. _

That should not have been possible. Allen raged against that, demanded that Sixty give him his pain back. His final question was about Sixty’s eyes.

_ My sight will come back. We heal quicker. You stared at a light for too long. _

Guilt ripped through Allen even as he had to commend Sixty’s mastery of English. Compared to the first few contacts, he had come along leaps and bounds. He heard a soft tinkle of laughter through the water.

_ You don’t shield your thoughts from me. I’ve spent the last day in your head, listening to you think even as I tried not to. It’s been a welcome distraction though I’m sorry for the violation. _

_ Give me my pain back and we’re even. Let me help you. _

A look of relief passed over Sixty’s face before pain began to seep into Allen’s whole body. Aches and pains he hadn’t been aware of really having trickled back. A sore back, the twinges from pulled muscles when he hadn’t warmed up properly before working out. On top of that, the burning throbbing over both his arms was back, his neck tickled as his newly formed gills rippled in the water. His eyes were the worst though, his vision had tunnelled down a murky world. That should have been it but Allen followed the source of the pain, the pathway Sixty had used to take his agony and pulled.

The gasp filled his mouth with water as sensations flooded him. Not just the heat of the water intensifying but the bruises of the metal shackles. On top of it were other pains, the pulse of a missing claw, the barbwire clench of hot water over missing scales, the throb of his groin after they did who knew what. To think that Sixty had been through all that and yet still willingly shouldered Allen’s pain was humbling. Turning blindly towards him, Allen reached out, pulled him close.

_ What are you doing? _

_ This is called a hug. Humans give it for comfort.  _ He tried to explain. Sixty’s tail wrapped around his legs.

_ We link tails for that. _

They stayed like that for who knew how long. Slowly, Allen’s vision was starting to clear, he could see soft pulses of blue from where his head had been tucked against Sixty’s chest. That confused him, earlier, he could only see in grey and yet Sixty’s phosphorescing colours were clear as day.

_ You can still see colour. But the light levels have to be high enough to discern them. _ There was a soft chuckle over their bond.  _ Guess I need to teach you about keeping your end of the bond closed. _

_ Leave it. I don’t think I mind you knowing things.  _ He brought the images of the sea he thought he’d dreamed to the forefront of his mind.

_ Sorry. _ Sixty sounded wishful.  _ The homesickness is difficult to control when they sedate me. _

_ Why were you here anyway? How did you get caught? _

The silence was filled with shame. Allen half expected a story of foolishness, maybe something along the lines of being dared in some mermaid equivalent of teenage showboating. Or maybe something more heart wrenching like exile or a doomed trip which would mean certain death. Forgetting his thoughts could be heard, Allen felt Sixty shiver with a little laugh in his arms.

_ I was searching for a mate. As the last of my clutch to remain unbonded but the season looming closer, it was encouraged I look further afield for a mate suited to my liking. I hadn’t found anyone who could best me until you. _

Which was a bit of a lie. Allen hadn’t done much more than shoot him full of tranquiliser while he was trapped in a net. Phantom pains of the net cutting into flesh made him shiver and Sixty’s tail brushed against his legs in comfort.

They drifted together at the bottom of the pool in the darkness. Allen’s vision was slowly coming back and he smiled at the soft blue light that made Sixty positively glow. He teased about it being a mood lighting of sorts and was surprised to find that he hadn’t been wrong as such. The blues were the calm, happy colours. Used to signify contentment and also hunting, luring fish closer with the soft, cool glow until they were within reaching distance. By contrast, the yellows were when a mermaid was deep in thought or trying to achieve something, more of a sign to say that they were processing. Meanwhile, reds were danger, pain and stress. No wonder Sixty had been red for most of his captivity, with everything he had been put through and all.

Slowly, Sixty untangled them and brought them to the surface. The air on Allen’s skin felt uncomfortable, the draft like a burning wind. He took a few gulps of air to get his lungs working again as his gills closed up. Behind Sixty’s gentle chitter he could hear his words.

_ They’ll be here soon. You need to get ready for the day. But hurry back to me soon. You make what they do almost bearable. _

It took a couple of tries to remember how his legs worked and Allen struggled into his clothes. They felt abrasive against his skin, too restrictive. From memory they ought to have been softer but now, they felt like rough wool against freshly scraped grazes. He barely made it back to his quarters before his alarm was going off, signifying the start of another day.


	6. The Clutch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, the tags are actually getting relevant now...

Getting ready, Allen dropped his turtleneck as his hands shook with a wave of fear that wasn’t his own.

_ Sixty? What’s going on? _

There was silence and Allen cursed, trying to hurry up with getting ready. In the back of his mind he could hear Sixty crying and he was out the door, almost forgetting his gear. He stumbled and caught his leg on the edge of the bed with a curse. Rolling his trouser leg up, he gritted his teeth as he watched black ichor ooze down his skin. It was probably just a trick of the light but he didn’t care much when Sixty cried out sharply.

_ I’m coming, hang in there. _

What he hoped to do, he wasn’t sure but he slammed into the lab to a few raised eyebrows.

“Early-” Perkins’ smile held nothing warm, “-doesn’t make up for your unprofessional conduct yesterday. But it’s a start to make up for it.”

Settling in his chair, Allen watched. They had Sixty out on the table again, blinding lights angled at his abdomen. There were lines drawn on him and a few scientist were hunched over him, arguing.

_ Sweetheart? _ The endearment took Allen by surprise but he stuck to it, reaching for Sixty as best he could through their bond.  _ Talk to me. _

_ They’re trying to take my clutch. _

Reaching across the bond to the best of his abilities, Allen tried to comfort Sixty. He gathered him close, wrapped around him to protect him. The pokes and prods to sensitive areas made his gut twist but at least Sixty was safe from them for now.

The morning wore on and Allen sagged in his seat. He was pale, soaked in sweat as he tried to keep quiet each time a scientist sliced into Sixty’s flesh, took pictures and samples. Their only saving grace was that the researchers couldn’t agree how to extract the clutch. It was only three eggs, some favoured the idea of trying to use stimulation to encourage Sixty to lay them naturally while Perkins was ready to cut through scales and muscle with a saw to get to the eggs.

_ I can’t protect them for a lot longer. _ Sixty was teary in Allen’s mind.  _ My first clutch and I can’t protect them. Can’t even lay them to keep them safe. _

The idea niggled at the back of Allen’s mind. He’d caught glimpses of mermaids and their mating habits from Sixty. Knew what it entailed. Rubbing at his itching gums and frowning when the sharp tips of his teeth caught on his fingers, Allen mulled things over.

_ Mate? _ He asked tentatively. There was a sparkle of hope and happiness from Sixty at the name.  _ Would you trust me with them? _

_ I already trust you with my life. For you to carry my brood would be an honour. _

That settled matters. Allen kept a hold of Sixty, slipped lower in his chair and tried not to whine when someone drew more blood. He was exhausted, hadn’t eaten in who knew how long but food didn’t hold any kind of appeal. Not the slop served in the mess hall anyway. By the time the researchers decided to take a break, Allen was barely on his chair and conscious. As people stepped away from Sixty, he gasped, letting his mental hold loosen.

_ Thank you. _ There was a cool caress across his consciousness as Sixty tried to soothe him.

The doors closed and Allen dragged himself to the it and locked it from the inside, jammed a chair under the handle so nobody could bother them. Stripping out of his clothes as he returned to the side of the pool, he slithered in and Sixty was wrapping his tail around his legs immediately, shrugging out of the last of the shackles.

_ We don’t have much time. I’m sorry. _

Allen nodded silently, head buried in the crook of Sixty’s neck. His nails scraped over the scales on Sixty’s shoulder blades, surprised to note the strong tips he was developing. A peek suggested they were turning black and claw-like.

He was sat on the shelf, Sixty’s lips mouthing against his neck and he shivered. Teeth scraped against his skin and he keened. Something was flooding his systems, making his world hazy and lax.

_ What’s going on? _ He tried to ask, it came out as a chitter rather than words and Sixty pulled him closer, his lower half all but hanging off the seat, leaving him open. Wrapping his legs around Sixty’s waist, he pulled, needing to feel his mate close to him.

_ Our bond.  _ Sixty was panting in his mind.  _ It eases the way. Let me- _

With a soft cry, Sixty sighed as Allen’s hands dipped lower. There was a small twinge of pain across their link as his two cocks slithered out of their sheath. It made Allen groan, feeling them in his hand. He couldn’t fathom how this worked but instinct was taking over. Sixty was crowding against him, one of his erections a little softer and smaller than the other. It’s the one he was pressing against Allen’s hole insistently.

_ Wait, humans need prep. _ Allen was starting to push away but his argument was null and void as Sixty slipped into his body.

_ You’re my mate. You’re ready for me. _

Mermaid logic. Allen shrugged and a shuddering breath left him as Sixty pressed into him until he was flush against Allen, his scales rubbing against his skin roughly. Nipping kisses were pressed all over his neck and chest, leaving puncture wounds behind which trickled black. Whispers of “mine” and “mate” echoed through his head and Allen was surprised Sixty wasn’t rocking into him, chasing any pleasure. He tried to question in but something was pressing insistently against his hole and all thoughts stuttered to a halt.

It stretched him tight, barely passing through his ring of muscle which protested, burning a little under the strain.

_ Fuck. Sixty? _

_ Take my clutch. That was the first egg. Look after them. Treasure them. Allen, my mate. _

Nodding, Allen’s head tipped back and smacked into the lip of the pool but he barely even noticed it, too caught up in feeling Sixty’s body tense and the second egg was moving. Slowly, it was forcing its way past his rim, pulling him wide and he cried out at the widest point. With a soundless pop it disappeared into him. His heels dug into the small of Sixty’s back where skin bled into scales. Pulling him in closer, Allen panted at the sensation of the eggs in him. Before he had a chance to catch his breath, the third one was insistently nudging against him.

_ I can’t. Sixty. Too much. Please. _ He begged for a breather, his cock hard and no doubt leaking against Sixty’s other one.

_ No time. Take them, please. _ Sixty was pleading just as much and Allen whined as the final egg began to unrelentingly push into him.  _ Bear down, take my brood. _

Obediently, Allen tried his best to bear down and a groan ripped from his throat as the egg suddenly slipped in, his hole slow to close.

“Okay, okay,” he panted.

_ We need to fertilise them. _

That was all the warning he got as Sixty pulled away a little, grabbed his bigger, longer cock and, grasping it against the ovipositor, the began to open Allen up with them both. All breath left Allen as he tried to make sense of all the sensations. His back arched, stomach tight and showing the soft bulge of where the eggs had settled. So exposed, it left his chest open to a series of harder bites as Sixty slipped flush against him. Everything felt too tight, too full and Sixty was urging Allen to sit up and wrap his arms around his neck to hold on. Skin to skin, Allen could feel Sixty’s chest heaving, he was shifting around, trying to settle before his tail gave one powerful pump and he was diving backwards, pulling Allen underwater with him. They twisted in the pool, Sixty undulating against him, each flick of his tail drove him deeper into Allen. All he could do was hold on, whine as his own cock was trapped between them. But it was almost a side note when most of his attention was on being split open by two cocks pumping into him. The eggs jostled with each move, rocked deeper into him until all Allen could think of was how full he was, how good it all felt and if only Sixty could pump him a little more full, leave him gaping and leaking, a shivering mess on the bottom of the pool.

Images of a soft kelp bed, adorned with the most beautiful shells and pearls, softly illuminated by a few tethered angler fish came over their bond. The message was easy to understand, even when it was tinged with longing and bitterness.

_ Next time, _ Allen promised blindly, thinking about how much he’d love it if Sixty could take him to their mating bed. For now, they had to make to with what they had which was a shallow pool and a mating fuelled by desperation. He could feel Sixty’s pleasure starting to crest, all but forced from him thanks to the awareness that they didn’t have all the time wanted. His cock swelled a little, stretched Allen that little bit wider around him and his teeth sank into the juncture of Allen’s shoulder and neck. Unthinking, Allen leaned forward and bit down too, howling as he felt Sixty release in him.

All too soon, Sixty was pulling out, his cocks slipping back into their sheaths behind his slit and there was never any evidence of him having done anything. By contrast, Allen was a boneless, floating mess.

_ Holy shit. _

That earned a humming giggle from Sixty.

_ At home I would stay in you for longer, make sure they took and keep you floating for a good wave cycle. Alas, we don’t have the luxury of time here. _

Pulling himself up, Allen eyed the surface he needed to get to. Each small move jostled the eggs and made him clench down, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body. He almost missed the small bark of surprise from Sixty but he looked up in time to see a slack jawed gaze of awe filled admiration.

_ You’re beautiful. _

The words were hoarse even over their connection and Sixty drifted closer, a hand out and he traced a line over Allen’s shoulders before settling on his chest. If he squinted, Allen could make out the faintest of blue glows emanating from his sternum. A glance confirmed that Sixty had the same markings. It solidified what Allen had suspected all along.

_ You know what’s happening. _ It was a statement not a question and Allen nodded. _ Then you also know the fate which awaits you if we don’t leave. _

The thought had occurred to Allen but he had been in gentle denial about it until there was no way to ignore it. They needed to find a way to escape and escape soon. At the rate he was transforming, they didn’t have long left.

_ You need to hurry. They’re coming back. _

Sixty twisted away from Allen and grabbed the key he had left on the floor of the pool, already shrugging back into the shackles as Allen pulled himself from the pool. Each step and move made him want to whine, a hand drifted towards his crotch, intent on exploring how he was still gaping and his stomach bulged a little.

He was already in most of his clothes when the door clattered, signalling that someone was trying to force their way in. The yelled “oi” was followed up by pounding fists. Jamming his feet into his boots and swiping wet hair from his face, Allen waddled over to the door and yanked it open.

“What?” he barked harshly. “Can’t a guy have a nap on his break?”

He trudged back to his spot, dragging the chair with slow, measured steps, careful to not give away just how much his stomach was now keeping his focus. He wanted to curl up and hide in a dark corner. The bathtub sounded like as good a place as any. Sitting down, he sighed and his trousers squelched uncomfortably from where he was still leaking.

Unceremoniously, Sixty was dragged from the pool and tied down to the table again. The poking and prodding started again but he seemed to have taken a backseat to what was happening to his body, his mind brushed warmly against Allen’s.

It took another half an hour for a murmur to work its way into disbelieving cries. The scientists were gesturing wildly at Sixty and another x-ray they had taken.

“Where are they?” Perkins screamed in rage. “Search the pool.”

The lights were bright and Allen winced as they were turned higher, the whole pool illuminated to reveal nothing. Not even a trace of eggs or what he and Sixty had done.

“Maybe he ate them,” Allen called out. “You’ve been starving him enough that he might have been forced to resort to infanticide.”

Perkins’ lip curled into a sneer and he whirled on Sixty. His hand slapped loudly against Sixty’s cheek and Allen winced, head whipping to the side too. It was impossible to disguise it as anything but the wince it was.

“You are showing too much sympathy for this creature. Look at you, you slob.” He approached Allen menacingly. “I want you out of my sight. You’re tweaking like some addict without a hit. Get out of my sight. Either you’re here tomorrow morning, clean and well groomed like when you started. Or you’re taking a long swim home.”

Delicately, Allen nodded and rose from his seat. He kept a firm hold of Sixty in his mind as he made the slow trek back to his quarters. A hand on the wall meant he could keep his eyes shut and ignored the whispers he heard of people who passed him. It didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. Once the door was shut behind him, Allen blinked open and revelled in the soft darkness the curtains afforded him. Stripping, he left a trail of clothes to the bathtub and sank into it gratefully, pulling Sixty into the sweet relish the still too warm water provided.


	7. The Brood

Plotting their escape had been the easy part. In the early hours of the morning when it was still dark but nobody was up yet, Allen would slip into the pool, smuggle the last pouch of fish he had stashed in his fridge with him for a meal to get their strength up and then he’d carry Sixty through the service corridors to the deck where they’d take a quiet swan dive over the railing. It all sounded so simple, Allen had to laugh at it. The water rippled above his head and he closed his eyes. The fatigue was worse, especially with the eggs which he could swear had grown in him. Once the day was over, Sixty sighed and left a brush of a kiss against his mind and pulled back.

_ Sleep a little. We’ll need our strength. They’ve just thrown me back in the pool. _

Allen could only hum in agreement, already slipping into sleep without much thought. His dreams were a mix of the deep sea, flickers of faces that could have been Sixty but not quite. They drifted in and out of focus but Allen didn’t much mind. He was sure he was seeing Sixty’s dreams again and it felt nice, sharing them.

Waking was a bit of a different experience. His stomach felt swollen, distended and tender. Looking down, it was pressing out, the freshly formed scales on his hips glinting from the yellow light the lines of his arms and chest cast. Shifting in the water, Allen reached for Sixty, trying to find reassurance. He felt Sixty wake at his cry for help.

_ Our brood is ready. _ There was a sense of awe and giddiness that accompanied his words.  _ My brother’s gone through this, I know what to do. Come over. And bring a bag for the eggs. _

Groaning, Allen pulled himself upright and a hand flew to his stomach. All the shifting and movement was pressing down interestingly and his cock was stirring in interest. He grabbed his satchel from the chair and upended it, watching music player, phone and a few other things topple out. He wasn’t going to need those anymore, they could stay. The muscles of his abdomen quivered again and he whimpered. Curiosity got the better of him and he reached behind himself, his hole was soft and loose, and dipping in, he could feel the smooth shell of an egg.

_ It will be easier in the water. _

There was a flitting excitement to Sixty’s presence in his mind, mixed with care and a hint of trepidation. Now that he thought about it, Allen had to agree that the idea of sinking into water, letting it take his weight while Sixty held him, rubbed the cramping muscles of his back and stomach did indeed sound appealing. Uncaring of his nudity, Allen stumbled towards the door.

Thankfully, it was the middle of the night, the only lights were the red emergency ones for guidance. They matched the light on his chest and arms almost perfectly. The trip down the corridor was one that left Allen breathless, he had to stop and lean against the wall a couple of times and only Sixty’s soft encouragement and promise of making it easier kept him going. In the lab, he dropped to his knees, disoriented and guided by the pull of the water. At the edge, hands were on his shoulder and pulling him in, letting him all but flop in head first.

_ I’ve got you. You can let go now. _

A cool hand stroked over his stomach, the other helped ease him so his back was against Sixty’s chest. The eggs were sitting low, a constant pressure and he bore down, gritting his teeth. Allen could feel the egg stretch him, move over his prostate and wrench a groan from him. Squeezing a little more, he let out a small cry as nothing happened. Exhausted, he collapsed against Sixty whose hands were on him again.

_ Take a moment. Then we’ll try again. _

This time, Sixty had one hand on his stomach, holding but not pressing while the other had wrapped around Allen’s cock, making his mind start to reel with the duality of pleasure and effort.

“I can’t, Sixty, I can’t,” he panted, voice warped under the water.

A soft bite was left on the side of his neck and Sixty was pushing them up to the ledge again, settling Allen on it and swimming to get between his legs.

_ You can. Let me help. _

Fingers skimmed up Allen’s thighs, nails raking over newly formed scales which glinted dangerously in the low light. Two fingers nudged against Allen’s hole, slid in without any resistance. Immediately, Sixty set to work, gently stretching him, a third finger joined soon and they toyed with pushing the eggs further back up, making room to work and tease over Allen’s prostate. It had him bucking into Sixty’s touch, wordless whines spilled from him lips, the lights on his arms and chest slowly turning yellow. Another wave washed over him and he could feel Sixty withdrawing his fingers as the egg started to bulge out of his hole. Fingers pushed on his taut rim as he bore down on the egg again. The pain was numbed as Sixty took away part of it and all of a sudden the pressure was gone, the egg dropped into Sixty’s waiting hand. One down, two more to go.

Shifting a little, Allen pulled Sixty closer, needing to feel him. His eyes caught on the juncture of his neck. Faintly glowing was the imprint of a set of teeth. Vaguely, Allen could remember sinking his teeth in as they mated, the tang of salt and blood. And yet, the wound looked like an old scar. He traced it with a shaking hand.

_ We heal quick. And I wanted to hide your mating bite from the monsters. _

It made sense. If Perkins had seen the bite, there was no telling what he would have done. Nodding, Allen pulled Sixty closer and mouthed along his collarbone, catching his breath before the next egg came out.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the urge to push came again, the egg pressed relentlessly against his prostate on its way down and he whined. Thankfully Sixty held him close, let him rut hindlessly into his fist as his other hand stroked over his stretched rim. The egg pressed against Sixty’s palm and for a teasing moment, he pushed back against it, drawing a hoarse gasp from Allen. He shuddered and the egg passed out of his body into Sixty’s palm. 

_ You look beautiful like this. _

Before Allen could reply, the third egg moved lower rapidly and his voice turned into a bitten off moan. In response, Sixty’s hand sped up, pumps him until his whole body was strung tight. The egg insistently pressed against his rim, dipping out and in again as his rim pulsed.

Exhausted, he lay limp in the water, letting Sixty’s body hold him up, head flopped back onto the edge of the pool. His chest heaved, sweat trickled down his temple and each time he licked dry lips, he could taste the salt on his upper lip. The egg gave him no reprise and he cried out as he pushed down once more, his hole stretched around the egg while Sixty’s hand kept up a steady rhythm. For a moment it looked like it might not happen, the egg precariously balanced just shy of its widest bit until with a final heave which had Allen doubling over, it popped out and was whisked away into the satchel. Without warning Sixty’s hand was back at his entrance, three fingers easily worked into his loose hole and they all pressed down on his prostate.

Howling, Allen’s body convulsed as Sixty stroked him through his climax, fingers massaging over him from the inside, drawing it out and flooding his whole body with bone melting pleasure. Harsh little “ah’s” crackled through his throat and Allen winced as it started to become too much. Immediately, Sixty was pulling out, letting him go and letting the water wash away the mess. Reaching blindly, Allen pulled him closer, flush against him and pressed their lips together.

“I love you, Sixty,” he murmured, voice buckling.

They basked in the quiet satisfaction radiating from everything that had happened. Silently, Allen reached a clumsy hand for the stachel and Sixty opened it up to show the three eggs carefully nestled in there. Both their arms and chests glowed a soft blue.

Hesitantly, Sixty broke their peaceful rest.

_ In your dreams, I saw someone. Your brother I think. _

Images were pushed back at Allen, stills from memories of his brother. Emotions roiled through him at seeing them, he’d not thought of those moments in a long while.

_ I don’t have a brother. _

He snapped, firm and decisive. It didn’t stop the sorrow and rage seeping through their bond but he refused to elaborate. He could feel the gentle, probing query from Sixty but he refused to give answers. Not now. It had never been easy thinking about him and especially now was a bad moment. Stubbornly, he stuck to his assertion. He didn’t have a brother.

A few more minutes of silence later, Sixty gently brushed against his mind again.

_ We need to go. _

Sighing, Allen nodded. He knew it too. His body was changing rapidly, scales littered his calves, caught awkwardly against Sixty’s at certain angles. Heaving in a breath, he rolled and pulled himself out of the water. The air burned fierce against his skin and he stood on quaking, weak legs. By his feet, Sixty was hauling himself out of the water, satchel over his shoulder. Remembering his workplace safety training, Allen crouched down and scooped Sixty up, one hand under his tail, the other behind his shoulders. The satchel sat on Sixty’s stomach. They made a start towards the door of the lab, wet feet slapping heavily against the bare floor. Stumbling through it, the door clanged against the wall and bounced back into Allen’s shoulder. He grunted and shoved it wide open to get through.

The corridor was still empty and quiet save for the harsh breaths Allen drew in. He was panting, struggling under Sixty’s weight, thoroughly exhausted from the last couple of days. Every few steps, he had to stop and focus. The skin on his thighs was sticking, threatening to meld and never separate again. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he had Sixty and the eggs safely overboard.

Around them the night lights started flashing and the alarm was sounded as they approached the door to the deck. Obviously someone had noticed Sixty’s absence, the nightguard doing their job for once and spotting the lab door they had left open. There was nothing left to do but gather up all his strength and charge at the door with a feral growl.

They exploded out onto the deck which was mayhem, spotlights were dancing over the whole ship, people were running around. At first, nobody dared stop them. Allen was still head of security, the instinct to defer to him was strong. Even if he was buck naked, cradling a mermaid to his chest and staggering. People were quick to hop out of his way when he bared sharp teeth at them and he got to the edge of the boat, hissing at the spotlight blinding him and burning his eyes. At the edge, he peered over the railing and sighed at the sight of the roiling sea.

_ Let’s go home. Just let me go, the fall won’t hurt. They’re coming. Hurry! _

Sure enough, behind them, a small group of security was assembling and they were yelling over the noise. Ignoring them, Allen sent a burst of love to Sixty and let him go, watching him hold the satchel to his body and twist through the air until he crashed into the water with a minimal splash.

“You!” Perkins’ screech was deafening. “I should have known.”

Allen turned to stare at him with a snarl. The gun in Perkins’ hand was pointed straight at him, at the centre of the glowing red on his sternum.

“You let my specimen go. You will pay for this.” After a beat, he gave a cruel smile. “Perhaps not all is lost though and you will take its place.”

Allen had wanted to yell “fuck you” at Perkins but all that came out was an inhuman screech. It made Perkins wince and he shot. The bullet caught Allen and sent him tumbling back. His legs caught on the railing and he went over.


	8. The Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing Amnael has made a piece of gorgeous art for this fic. Check it out over here: https://www.deviantart.com/amnael-z-jackwell/art/Where-the-Light-never-reaches-810197161

The sea was blissfully cool as Allen crashed into it. Salty water closed over him as he splashed into it. That was the trigger he needed, his will to keep the transformation at bay shattered by the pain and shock. For a moment he didn’t know which way was up, then a hand was closing around his wrist and insistently tugging him. Obediently, he let himself be pulled, trying to help with a few kicks of his tail. Glancing over his shoulder, the boat they’d fallen from was fading into a smaller and smaller speck until even his newly formed sight couldn’t pick it out anymore.

Looking around, they were at the bottom of the sea, in the distance he could see crevices through which they could still descend lower and, having Sixty’s memories to go off, they likely would. His biggest concerns were easiest to allay with a soft probing question.

_ We’re all okay. I’m not hurt and neither is our brood. _

Flopping back down onto the seafloor, Allen closed his eyes and took a moment to just be. He took stock of his new body, of Sixty’s hand on his hip and he peered down at what he was doing. The bullet Perkins had fired had caught on a couple of the scales on his hips. On a human, that would have been a life changing, potentially life threatening injury. Instead, he had a few scales bent out of shape.

_ You will likely always bear the mark. The bullet warped the scales at formation point. _

Shrugging, Allen looked up at him. He wanted to speak but all that came out was the soft humming like singing he had heard Sixty make in his pool.

_ I’ll teach you our language, don’t worry. _ There was a hint of laughter to Sixty’s words.  _ But mostly, families connect like we do. _

_ Speaking of families. Will yours not be worried about you? _

_ Beyond belief. But we’ll return when we want. They knew I was trying to find a mate further afield. Perhaps this isn’t quite conventional for our shoal but they’ll deal. _

They swam further and deeper into the sea, Sixty showing Allen the passageways to the depths he usually inhabited. Sometimes, they stopped off, just so Allen could marvel at the creatures he’d never heard of, let alone encountered before. Sleeping in little nooks, protectively curled around the satchel between them, Allen was surprised at how easily he adjusted to his new life.

Deeper down where the only light was the blue from him and Sixty, they still swam unerringly, Sixty obviously familiar with the territory. Soon, he started singing, little trills that sounded like calls of excitement.

_ We’re almost home. _

That was all the warning Allen got as red lights melted into view in the distance. At first glance, they could have been tricks of his eyes but then a low roaring hum filtered through.

_ That’s Hank, ignore him. He’s a softy. _

There was a youthful delight in Sixty’s voice and he called back. Silently, Allen followed. The lights became figures, two pairs and by the time Sixty stopped them, he could assess what, or rather, who they were up against. The familial resemblance was striking. One of the mermaids was a spitting image of Sixty but not quite. Softer somehow but Allen wasn’t going to let that fool him. He’d seen Sixty struggle and knew that appearances could be deceiving. Though looking at the other three arrivals, there was nothing deceiving there. A big, silver haired mermaid was at the front, obviously the leader of the little group. He eyed up Sixty then Allen with a grunt.

_ Welcome, Silas’ Mate. _

Well, that was as good a greeting as any. Allen nodded back but didn’t know how to reach back and offer a greeting. Not that he needed to because the other pair were visibly agitated. The bigger mermaid looked, for want of a better word, like an ominous machine. His lights were a cooler blue, he was slender and obviously built for speed and strength.

_ My twin, Connor and brother Nines. Nines is the brood matron. He hasn’t lost a single member of a clutch to an attack. And their partners, Hank and Gavin. _

It wasn’t difficult to guess that Hank was Connor’s bear of a mermaid while Gavin was the smallest of the group, flitting rapidly around Nines in agitated circles. He kept casting glances at Sixty and Allen then at the satchel. With a soft laugh, Sixty pulled it off from around his shoulders and held it out. Lightning fast, Gavin had snatched it and was opening it up with Nines peering over his shoulder.

_ They’re complimenting us on our first brood. And want to know if you’re okay with linking to the family. They’re a noisy bunch so let me know if you need them to back off. _

Hesitantly, Allen nodded. Immediately, there were presences brushing up against his mind with various greetings and questions. He blinked, wide eyed and thanked all the years he spent on comms for work because now, he could pick out individual voices with much hassle.

Thinking he’d managed to isolate just Sixty, he tried to send him a private message.

_ It’s good to be home. _

His head erupted again with agreements. Obviously, he’d failed miserably at private communication but it seemed that nobody minded as he was welcomed home in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in case you didn't want to look before finishing this chapter, the art (and so many other, stunning pieces) by Amnael can be found here: https://www.deviantart.com/amnael-z-jackwell/art/Where-the-Light-never-reaches-810197161

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, on tumblr as connorssock.


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